


Reassignment

by Vinvalen



Series: Discoveries [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinvalen/pseuds/Vinvalen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU/Canon divergence inspired by the concept that Veld may have been assigned to Nibelheim at some point after Vincent's disappearance. </p><p>Characters: Veld, Sephiroth as a small child.<br/>Rating: PG at best for entire series, due to Hojo being Hojo. No underage whatsoever.</p><p>The usual disclaimers apply- I'm just borrowing them for a little while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reassignment

When Veld was assigned to Nibelheim, though not immediately in the wake of Vincent Valentine’s disappearance, the president’s order provoked understandable trepidation on Veld’s part. Namely, he wondered if he was marked as next on the ‘soon-to-be-retired’ list.  
Then again, what Hojo wanted, Hojo got. And apparently, the scientist had finally gotten around to demanding a replacement for his former head of security.

_“Your loyalty belongs to *me,*” President ShinRa had told him, “And since you seem to be so fond of children, this assignment should be well within your expertise. It will remain in effect until I am convinced you have your priorities in proper order.”_

Veld felt his blood run cold when faced with that icy, implacable stare and the implications accompanying the president’s decree, thinking of someone he had left behind in Kalm…a lady who was expecting his child. 

He _knew_ better than to think the was anyone beyond the reach of ShinRa despite his efforts at discretion. That he had one friend left whom he knew he could still trust was small comfort, though Legend would keep watch as best he could and find a way to let her know why Veld had not returned… _if_ she still lived.

 

And thus he found himself here; dripping on the foyer of what was probably intended to pass as a country manor house, was quickly approaching the status of edifice in Veld’s mind. Or rather, a thinly disguised fortress, if he was completely honest with himself. _Hells, what a place._ Even the tall stained glass windows, the elaborate decor and broad, sweeping stairs did nothing to alleviate the oppressive atmosphere of it. In spite of their cultured, expensive veneer, the very walls seemed to radiate despair. The heavy rain hammering down outside merely served to reinforce his assessment. 

_Vincent, what happened to you?_

Lost between the past and wondering what he was supposed to do next when no one had come to acknowledge his arrival, Veld almost didn’t hear a door opening somewhere out of sight above him. He dropped his suitcase as his hand reached automatically for his weapon, but he let it fall slowly back to his side when the cause of the sound he’d heard was revealed. 

A small child, one who couldn’t be more than three years old, appeared on the upper landing in the company of a man wearing a white lab coat. A man who Veld assumed was one of the scientists in residence had a strong grip around the upper arm of the child, almost dragging him along, not caring when the child stumbled as they descended the stairs. Veld bristled at the rough treatment. Before he could speak, the scientist interrupted. “It’s about time you got here,” he snarled, glaring at Veld.

“Is that truly necessary?” Veld replied in his coldest tone, glancing down at the child, who in spite of the manhandling did not seem to be developing bruises as a result.

The scientist snorted in contempt. “You’ll think differently when he bites a piece out of you. Be that as it may, he’s _your_ problem now.” With that, the man left the child standing before Veld, then turned and stalked back the way he had come. When he had disappeared again, a door slammed somewhere above.

Veld knelt down on one knee to face the child, who since he had been released, stood unnaturally still, the only indication of his distress betrayed by the tiny hands tightly clenching the hem of his shirt. “Are you all right?” Veld asked gently.

Green eyes, too old for such a small face, widened as if he were surprised by the question. He didn’t speak, but after a few moments of studying Veld closely, gave a slight nod. Veld, studying him in turn, felt a cold chill run down his spine. In spite of the differences in hair color and eyes, the features, even in one so small, seemed entirely too familiar. _Oh, Vincent....what have you done?_

“Good,” Veld replied just as gently as before, when he had found his voice again. “My name is Veld. What is yours?”

Again, the child hesitated. “Sefroff” he finally offered. Again that eerily intelligent gaze swept over Veld, taking in the details of his appearance. “You Turk?” Sephiroth asked at last.

“Yes. I am.” Veld acknowledged quietly. _Sweet Shiva…is _this_ Project S?_

“Turk bad,” Sephiroth replied, backing away a step. One tiny fist came up to his face, its little thumb disappearing into his mouth as the curiosity of a moment before was replaced with an expression as blank as stone.

In all his life as a Turk, Veld had never felt so utterly condemned as he did by that one simple statement.

“Sometimes…but not always.” Veld replied, unwilling to be anything less than completely honest in the face of Sephiroth’s judgment. “And only when they make me.”

When Sephiroth instinctively glanced toward the upper landing and a tremble shook his small frame, Veld knew the boy, as small as he was, had a good grasp of who _they_ were. A change of subject was in order.

“Are you hungry?” Veld asked. His clinging wet uniform, already becoming uncomfortably clammy due to the room’s chill, could wait.

The strange, wary green eyes flicked back to Veld, studying his face minutely before the angelic child eventually gave a jerky nod. 

Slowly, as to not startle Sephiroth, Veld reached and unzipped a side pocket on his travel bag and withdrew a Banora White apple, Sephiroth’s eyes following his every move. In his peripheral vision, Veld caught the flicker of a smile, quickly suppressed.

“Would you like to share this with me?” Another nod, quicker this time, answered him and a hopeful little smile returned.

“Good. I am hungry, too.” Veld replied, smiling more fully. “Do you know where the kitchen is?”

“Is dat way,” Sephiroth pointed off to the side of the large room toward a closed door.

“Thank you. Will you carry this for me?” Veld extended the apple, and after a slight hesitation, Sephiroth took it in his small hands. He brought it to his face, inhaling its delicious scent. The smile that resulted was enough to break Veld’s heart. _What is your life truly like, that such a small thing can make you so happy?_ he wondered privately.

Swallowing roughly, Veld blinked rapidly and gathered up his things. _I don’t know where you are, Vincent, but I swear to you I will do my best to protect him._ Veld promised silently. He stood up again, laden with his belongings and digging deep within himself, found a smile for Sephiroth in return. He did not try to touch the child yet, but Sephiroth walked close by his side as they made their way to the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pseudo-series of sorts, featuring vignettes revolving around Sephiroth as a child, his relationship with Veld, and his early years at Nibelheim. They are updated as different plotbunnies and scenarios strike, and will therefore probably not be in any particular chronological order, except for the parts already written. Thank you so very much for reading, hope you enjoy! <3


End file.
